home

Tariq Omarshah (Zimbabwe, AC 06-08)

 

 

                            home 

  

‘It’s dark outside’ she whispers, scared.

 

I smile to try and comfort her.

 

‘What if they come back?’ she continues.

 

 For this I have no gesture, no words.

 

We sit in our living-room, alone.

 

It’s dark.

 

The candle flickers.

 

‘They hurt her,’ the child says, slowly.

 

I look away.

 

I can’t look into those innocent pools.

 

They’re too familiar.

 

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